


Sweet and Spicy

by misato



Series: Into The Spicy-Verse [2]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Anal Sex, Attempt at Humor, Deadpool Thought Boxes, I'm Sorry, M/M, Peter V. Parker -- the V stands for Vers, Pizza, Sexy Times, Shower Sex, Smut, The Author Regrets Everything, more like Intrusive Thots, more like Thot Boxes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-27 02:45:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17758295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misato/pseuds/misato
Summary: “Pineapple?” Wade says, incredulous. “I mean clearly you’ve got shit taste” -- he gestures to himself -- “but that’s just horrifying.”“It’s good,” Peter says, offering a slice. “Try it.”





	Sweet and Spicy

**Author's Note:**

> a little bit of a sequel to "ooh, spicy"

“So, how’s work?” Wade asks, chipper.

He and Peter Boyfriend-material Parker are sitting together on a beaten up bus seat. Peter’s in sexy civilian clothes and Wade’s back in the mask.  **[Finally.]** _ [Our self esteem was getting low again.] _

Thankfully, he’s completely materialized back into Pete’s universe. Well, almost completely. The pinky finger on his left hand keeps flickering in and out of existence, but beggars can’t be choosers, even if it  _ does  _ freak Peter out.

Despite the missing appendage, he’s definitely made use of the ones he’s still got.  **[Gross.]** _ [Nice.]  _ He and Peter had a generous helping of morning sex for breakfast. Now it’s nearing lunchtime, and they’re taking the bus to one of Pete’s favorite spots.  **[As in a date?]** _ [Sweet  _ _ and _ _ spicy.] _

And yeah, the bus is probably the least cool method of transportation available to superheroes, but Wade’s realized that Peter B. likes to fly under the radar. **[Or, well…]** _[Ride under the radar?]_

“Work’s fine,” Peter replies, leaning back in the seat.

“Fine, huh? Who’s been fucking shit up in your slice of the multiverse?”

“No one, really,” Peter answers with a shrug. “The usual big bads have all been kinda quiet lately.”

“Quiet is no bueno, baby,” Wade says. “Quiet means planning. Stay alert.”

He gives the bus a once-over as if there’s a bad guy lurking behind one of the chewing-gum-covered seats. 

“I do stay alert. It’s ten in the morning on a Saturday,” Peter says flatly. “Right now, quiet means asleep.”

And, well, he’s right. Even in an  _ un _ friendly neighborhood, crime isn’t exactly afoot in the mid-morning hours. That’s unless you count the jaywalkers (and Pete would never let him rough those guys up anyway).

A couple of stops later, Peter B. proudly drags him off the bus and into what looks like an average pizza place, insisting it’s the most delicious thing he’ll ever eat.

“I dunno, sweetheart,” Wade says. “I had something pretty delish last night.”

Peter whacks him gently and steps up to the counter to order. Wade goes with a trusty pepperoni and the pretty boy gets...

“Pineapple?” Wade says, incredulous. “I mean clearly you’ve got shit taste” -- he gestures to himself -- “but that’s just horrifying.”

“It’s good,” Peter says, offering a slice. “Try it.”

**[It’s not that bad.]** _ [It’s disgusting!] _

“Pineapple pizza is  _ not  _ good,” Wade complains, lifting the corner of his mask to bite into his own superior slice. “It’s morally grey at best, and even that would be an insult to yours truly.”

“I’ll have you know I’m a pizza connoisseur.”

“Just don’t kiss me until you brush your teeth.”

Wade kisses him once they get home anyway, because who has time to be stubborn when your boyfriend has a face like a movie star and an ass like... _ that _ . Peter’s mouth tastes sweet with the fruit and Wade honestly doesn’t mind the pineapple. Not that he’d ever admit it.

It feels like they’re inches from fucking again, but Wade’s still just as grimy as he was two days ago, and then some.

“Mind if I shower?” he asks, breaking the kiss.

**[Is that a plot device?]** _ [Shut up, we’re gonna have shower sex.] _

“Go ahead,” Peter says, nodding towards the bathroom door.

Peter has a cluttered bathroom with fancy hair gel on the counter and a floral shower curtain that Wade’s almost positive he didn’t buy. He waits for the water to warm up and stares in the mirror, watching his reflection disappear into steam. He sighs. His pinky glitches as he tests the water. It’s hot.

While Wade’s lathering up, he’s really starting to wish Pete had the guts to burst through the bathroom door like in a porno and fuck him so hard he slips and cracks his head open. Shower sex is dangerous, but he’s got a thing for dangerous, okay? Peter B. seems pretty rough and tumble, but the chances of that happening are still pretty slim.  **[He’s too much of a gentleman for that.]** _ [Fuck manners. Dick us down, Spidey!] _

There’s a knock at the door, and then a creak.  **[Oh, finally.]** _ [Don’t get your hopes up.] _

“Wade?” Peter B. asks, peering through a crack in the door. 

“Yes, dear?”

“Don’t use all the hot water, please.” 

**[Oh.]** _ [Told you.] _

“Why don’t you come on in and we can share the last of it?” Wade says in a not-at-all-sleazy voice, and Peter makes a disgruntled sound.

“Fine,” he says after a good few seconds “Give me a minute.”

Wade can see his silhouette stripping off layers of clothes through the faded shower curtain, and soon Peter’s warm and rough and everywhere. The water’s hot, but Peter’s definitely hotter.  **[Don’t say that out loud.]** _ [For the love of all things holy, please don’t.] _

“One of us is gonna slip,” Peter laughs, breaking from the kiss and breathing raggedly against Wade’s neck.

“First of all,” Wade says, grinding a little against his thigh and smothering a groan. “I’ll be fine. And second of all, if I  _ did  _ die, what a way to go, right? Mid-orgasm, a Spiderdick in my ass, and--”

“I could always pin you to the wall,” Peter says, his voice rough and impatient. 

“ _ Oh _ ,” Wade breathes, and the tail end of a moan slips out. “With your webs or just your hands? You ever try a little DIY bondage?”

“Jesus,” Peter says, diving for his neck and kissing over his jaw. “Do you ever shut up?”

“Almost never,” Wade says.

Then Peter does something wicked with his fingers and Wade just about melts into his arms. He vaguely remembers how Pete reacted to the last blowjob and his mouth waters. Then he thinks about taking that cock deep in his ass and he shudders and pushes back against those fingers again. And again. 

“Fuck,” Peter gasps out, like he’s never finger-fucked an almost-stranger in his shower before.

“Baby, just put your dick in me before the shower runs cold, okay?” Wade says, and Peter nudges him around in agreement.

Wade turns, ass pushing back, palms flat against the wall, and Peter’s hands slide behind his wrists in a loose grip. It’s not much like being pinned down; it’s softer, gentler, almost like Pete’s holding his hand. The thought makes him feel warm all over. He begs his pinky to stay corporeal long enough for Peter to hit him with an I-love-you or a God-you’re-so-fucking-hot or something romantic like that.  **[Romantic?]** _ [It’s been, like, a day. For him at least.] _

Wade lets out a little shuddery sound that he hopes sounds like a moan, and Peter moves away.

“Ah, shit, I forgot,” he says under his breath, and pulls aside the shower curtain and steps out.

Water sprays across half the wall for a moment before Peter turns around and rips it back to the other end of the tub, swearing.

Then he starts rooting through the medicine cabinet looking for a condom, probably. Wade’s still standing hard in the lukewarm shower with his hands pressed against the slick tile.

“Spiderbabe, you don’t need one,” he calls, staring at his fingers. 

His pinky is threatening to give out on him, and the water is turning Antarctic. 

“I won’t catch whatever you’ve got. I’m all heal-y, remember?”

“I don’t have anything,” Peter says, sighing and shutting the medicine cabinet. “Just being polite.”

“Can you politely cum inside my ass? The water’s only a couple degrees from freezing.”

“Turn off the shower then,” Peter laughs lightly as he steps back into the tub and flips the water off. 

He pins Wade a little rougher this time, and only with one hand -- the other one is working at his cock, slicking it with lube. 

“I’m not exactly a delicate flower,” Wade says. “I appreciate the gentle prep work, but I’m also in favor of getting a good dicking before nightfall, so…”

Peter pushes inside and Wade whimpers.

“Yeah, yeah, like that, fuck,  _ Peter _ . Just like that.”

His thighs are shivering from the cold and his feet scrabble at the slick floor as Peter gets rough, pushing him against the wall as he thrusts faster.

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” Peter murmurs.

**[Bingo!]** _ [If he says that he loves you, I’ll lose my shit.]  _

Wade ignores the boxes and tries to drown himself in the feeling of Peter hot and full inside him. He gasps out something breathy that he’d rather not repeat and Peter groans and finishes almost immediately. One hand grips his waist as wet warmth floods inside him and Wade trembles violently and cums against the tile. 

Just as he blinks his eyes open, heavy with post-orgasmic bliss, his pinky disappears. Then, so does the rest of him.

***

“Told you shower sex was dangerous,” Peter murmurs grumpily against his shoulder, tugging the sheets over them.

Pete’s hair is still wet. He looks a bit freaked out.

“It was worth it,” Wade says. “I can’t believe you fucked me so hard I glitched out of this dimension. Spiderdick is really something else.”

“Ha. Ha.” Peter says. “Just be careful. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Don’t worry, baby,” Wade says, pretending as if those words don’t make his heart ache. “I’m staying right here.”

“Good.”

The words are warm against his neck.

“Just don’t order pineapple pizza again. That shit’s gross.”  
  


**Author's Note:**

> i actually love pineapple pizza and prefer it to cheese


End file.
